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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22669192">Lean On Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagpieMorality/pseuds/MagpieMorality'>MagpieMorality</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Valentine Shorts 2020 [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dog Walking, Gen, Platonic Relationships, Roommates</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 02:14:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>470</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22669192</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagpieMorality/pseuds/MagpieMorality</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Damn, you look awful! Where the hell have you been?” With platonic anxceit.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anxiety | Virgil Sanders &amp; Deceit Sanders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Valentine Shorts 2020 [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1629586</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>59</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Lean On Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Damn, you look awful! Where the hell have you been?” Dorian stood in the door to Virgil’s room, arms folded and wincing. From the bed all Virgil could do was groan miserably into his pillow. There were twigs and leaves in his hair; grass stains <em>literally everywhere</em>; and a good helping of dirt on his hoodie sleeves. He’d clearly walked in and simply faceplanted flat onto the covers, because his door keys were still in his hand and his shoes were on. Dorian sighed and shook his head. “If this is those hell dogs of Mr Picani’s again then I’m gonna put my foot down and say that you might need to drop him as a client. Last week you come back soaked to the bone because they dragged you into a fountain. Today it’s… probably a bush-”</p><p> </p><p>“Several bushes,” Virgil corrected him, voice muffled. </p><p> </p><p>“S- several bushes? Look I don’t care how well he pays, they’re goddamn <em>huskies</em>, they need sleds and quad bikes. One skinny emo dude trying to set up a freelance dog-walking business will not cut it. You can’t even run.” </p><p> </p><p>Virgil sat up at last, pouting at him and beginning to pluck the debris from his hair. “Can so! Fight or flight, it’s like, a thing.” </p><p> </p><p>Dorian levelled him with a flat glare. “Sure. And have you <em>ever</em> had to use flight in your life? You didn’t even run when you were late getting back to get online for those MCR tickets, and that was like… more important to you than breathing.” </p><p> </p><p>“<em>You’re </em>more important to me than breathing…” Virgil parroted in a tone that was clearly meant to be petulant and mocking, but he’d rather chosen the wrong words for the desired effect. </p><p> </p><p>Dorian laughed, walking in to sit behind his friend and help him sort himself out. “You’re damn right I am. And next week you can get someone to help you with those dogs if you insist on taking them out again. Maybe the Dukes- they’re all big dog energy, right? They’ll probably tired the <em>huskies</em> out…” </p><p> </p><p>They laughed at the thought and Virgil leaned back, tilting his head back onto Dorian’s shoulder to smile at him. “Hey you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey you,” Dorian snorted. “Don’t you grin at me like that. I’m not doing your laundry for you.” He poked Virgil in a dimpled cheek and stood up, wagging a finger at him in warning as he walked backwards out of the room. “But if everything ends up in the basket in ten minutes before I put on my own very small load then I might end up doing them by accident. Don’t you dare thank me!” </p><p> </p><p>Virgil’s soft chuckles followed him down the hall as he went to get the machine ready and find the best detergent for heavy duty grass stains. </p>
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